I, Bobot
by Gabriel Ice
Summary: Mystery, intrigue, and murder most foul. Is Bobot really behind it all? Rated T for some disturbing crime scenes. Story finished!
1. Rude Awakening

A loud shriek woke Precis Neumann and half of the other guests at Pension Chie Inn. When Ashton slipped over to turn on the room's lights, Precis's first instinct was to adjust her sleep mask, roll onto her stomach, and press her pillow over her head. At Ashton's prodding, however, she forced herself to get up.

"What was that noise?" Ashton asked, clearly disturbed.

"How should I know?" Precis's voice crackled from grogginess, and instead of letting the hubbub disturb her, she felt annoyed at having her sleep disturbed.

"Shouldn't we investigate?"

"Tomorrow, please. I just want to get a glass of water and go back to bed."

Ashton began digging around in a black-with-gold-trim duffel bag in the corner closet for a few seconds before pulling out a pair of swords. He clutched them tightly. Precis found herself bothered by how high strung her beloved was.

"Ash, it's the middle of the night, and I was up past midnight perfecting Bobot 3.0. Why must you pick now to care about other people's problems?"

"Did you not hear some woman screaming?"

"Why do you care?"  
"There might be something dangerous nearby, and that means I should be protecting you."

"That's really sweet and all, but I'll bet some frail-minded woman just saw a mouse or something. It was probably Rena."

"You think so?" Ashton's paranoid expression softened a bit.

"Yes. Now let's get some sleep."

"Okay, fine," said Ashton. "I'll just…"

"Open up!" came a voice at the door, accompanied by some frantic knocking.

"I'll just get the door." Ashton finished slipping his robe over his pajamas, double checked his swords, and undid the door lock.

"Yes?" He said to what turned out to be Claude and Rena and an extremely frightened looking maid.

"Are you okay?" Rena asked.

"Of course," said Ashton. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"There's been a murder," said Claude.

Precis yanked off her sleep mask and, when her eyes adjusted to the light, noticed just how shook up her friends at the door looked. "Murder?"

"Leon," said Rena. "He's dead."

"Oh, just him," said Precis, before what Rena said sank in. "Wait, Leon's dead?"

"Messy scene," said Claude. "We followed the trail of blood, and it went by your door."

"Here?" Ashton began to look even more nervous.

"There," said Claude, drawing his sword and pointing it in the general direction of the closet on Precis's side of the room. The door remained closed.

Ashton gulped. "Should we… look inside?"

Claude nodded. Rena put her hand on his shoulder as if to steady him, and he nodded to Ashton to join him as he investigated.

"Wait!" cried Precis. "I want to look, too."

She leaped out from under the covers. A second later, she noticed her state of undress, her face turned bright red, and she grabbed the nearest blanked and wrapped it around herself.

"Uh, please pretend you didn't see that," she said.

"What, your tangled hair, or your rocket ship pajamas?" said Rena.

"Shut up, please," said Precis, holding her blanket even tighter.

"People," said Ashton, "this is not a time for jokes."

"You ready?" said Claude.

"Ready," said Ashton.

"And I've got your back," said Rena.

"Okay, then. On my mark," said Claude, "we open the door. One, two…"

Everyone tensed up.

"Three!" Claude threw open the door, jumped back a step, and waved his sword defensively. Ashton brandished his weapons threateningly. Both stopped when they saw what lay inside: a bluish orb covered in a sticky red substance that could only be blood. Precis knew right away what it was.

"They got Bobot, too!" she screamed. Everyone else glared at her. "Don't you see? Bobot is bleeding, and… Oh, that's right. Bobot can't bleed. What does that mean?"

"It means," said Claude, "that our killer used Bobot as a weapon. Like you do sometimes, I believe."

"It wasn't me, I swear!" insisted Precis. "I've been in here all night. Tell them, Ash."

"She has," said Ashton. "I would have known if she had gone anywhere."

"Then how did you not notice the killer stashing Bobot in the closet?" said Claude.

"I – I guess I don't know that." Ashton hung his head.

Precis flared up. "I can't believe you're accusing me of murder! Aren't we friends?"

"No one is accusing you of anything just yet," said Rena.

"I am," said the maid. "I never saw anything like this. All my years of working here, I never saw anything like this. This is…" She trailed off.

"We don't have all the facts yet," said Claude. "We don't have any reason to suspect that Precis killed Leon. It could just as well have been Ashton."

"Don't you drag me into this!" said Ashton. "There must be some third party."

Rena sighed. "We'll have to investigate. Maybe Chisato can help. This seems right up her alley."

"Yeah," said Precis. "Someone must have planted Bobot to frame me. That's the only thing I can think of."

"Anyway," said Ashton, "we should gather everyone and talk this over as a group. We'll all be safe as long as we're together, right?"

"Good idea," said Rena. "I'll start calling everyone else's rooms.

"Ashton, who could have stolen Bobot?" said Precis.

"We're just going to have to see, dear," said Ashton. Precis hugged his arm and tried to imagine that she was safe.

XXX

Chisato Madison, Bowman Jean, Ernest Raviede, Opera Vectra, Dias Flac, Rena Lanford, Claude Kenni, Ashton Anchors, Precis Neumann, Noel Chandler, and Celine Jules crowded into the hotel lobby. Chisato clearly held the floor. Precis held Ashton.

"We need to stick together," said Chisato to everyone. "We can get to the bottom of this if we think about what we know and what we can find out."

"And just what do we know" asked Bowman.

"We know there was a murder," said Chisato. "We suspect Bobot was the murder weapon."

"Do we know Bobot was just the weapon?" said Ernest. "How do we know it couldn't act under its own power? Precis, is it capable of that?"

"I've been making it more lifelike, yes," Precis admitted. "But nothing like that! Bobot can't murder anyone!"

"Are you sure?" said Opera. "It could be like in one of those novels, where the experimental robot or monster goes bad and starts a killing spree."

"Bobot absolutely cannot kill anyone," said Precis. "I wouldn't even know how to write something like that into the code. That would violate my laws of robotics."

"Who enforces these laws of yours?" said Bowman, sternly.

"I do!" said Precis.

"Then something is amiss," said Chisato. "I don't believe you are capable of murder, but I clearly your Bobot played a role in last night's killing. The trail of blood leading to your closet makes that clear. What's not clear is if someone else broke in, stole Bobot, killed Leon, and then put Bobot back without waking you up."

"In Precis's defense," said Ashton, "she's nearly impossible to wake up when she's wearing her sleep mask. I mean, even an alarm clock is worthless with her. I once had to resort to dropping ice cubes down the back of her pajama shirt just to get her up before noon."

"Too much information," said Dias.

"Just sayin'," said Ashton.

"So," said Chisato, "it's not out of the question that Precis slept while an intruder broke into the room. But what about you, Ashton?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Did you see or hear anything suspicious last night?"

"N—no, absolutely not! I slept like a rock."

"So it could have been anybody," said Chisato.

"Well, I'm relieved." Rena shifted in her seat. "I don't want to believe that any of my friends committed murder."

"We haven't ruled that out yet," said Chisato.

"But you haven't proven anything, either," said Dias. "And that means we all could still be innocent."

"And it means a murderer could still be loose in the inn," said Ashton. Precis shivered.

Chisato marched toward the hallway. "If there is killer on the loose, we won't catch him without looking. Let's go investigate."

XXX

Leon's corpse lay in the middle of his room. Everything else sat undisturbed. His backpack hung on the doorknob, zipped shut. A couple of books on Heraldry lay atop the nightstand next to a reading lamp. Both closet doors were closed. The bedsheets were made up nicely. Strangely, the only sign of a struggle was a small trickle of blood leading from the dead body to the doorway.

"This is, well, strange," said Chisato. "Bowman, could you look the body over? I want to know the cause of death."

"Anything for a pretty lady," said Bowman. Chisato shot him a glare, as if to say that if looks could kill, Bowman would be the night's second victim.

"Now is not the time for your perverted antics."

"Sorry." Bowman looked sheepish.

"Anyone else notice anything?" Chisato began pacing. "Like what Leon was doing before he died? Obviously, he wasn't sleeping."

"Why was that?" asked Rena.

"Because the bed is still made," said Chisato. "That much is simple."

"Oh," said Rena. "Sorry I asked."

"It's okay. Look at the nightstand, though. Those books. One of them is open."

Chisato checked the books' covers. "_Advanced Heraldry_ and _Special Heraldry_. I happen to know that Leon had a habit of staying up late to work on these. And look at this jar of ink. It's open, so he must have been writing."

"He died doing what he loved," said Dias.

"I still don't get it, though," continued Chisato. "There's nothing to suggest a fight broke out in here, and no one heard anything. Wouldn't you expect Leon to scream before he died, or something?"

"Maybe someone choked him," suggested Ernest.

"I don't think so," said Bowman. "His body's in pretty good shape. I'm not even sure why he died yet."

"You don't know?" Chisato gave Bowman a puzzled look. "You're the doctor, aren't you?"

"I'm a pharmacist. And I see no injuries."

"Precis, when you fight with Bobot, you usually throw him at your target, don't you?"

"Yep, I do."

"Then," said Chisato, "if there's no other way Bobot could have been used as a weapon, then it's some sort of red herring."

"We don't know anything about the cause of death yet," cautioned Bowman. "This could take a while, but I'm not going to rule out him being hit with Bobot until I know just why he died."

"Come to think of it," said Chisato, "why haven't you found any injuries yet? Do you not see why that is strange?"

"Besides the fact that we have an apparent murder with no obvious cause of death?"

"Yes, besides that."

"Uh, no?"

"Think harder," said Chisato. "If there is no injury on the body, where did all that blood in the hallway come from?"

"Good question," said Bowman. "I can't answer that at the moment."

"Well," said Chisato, "I expect to hear something soon. Until then, I want everyone doubling up on rooms. We have to play it safe tonight. And Precis? I want you to disassemble Bobot."

Precis gulped. Ashton hugged her.


	2. The Remains of the Night

Chapter 2

Precis shivered under Chisato's relentless gaze. Interrogation was not as fun as television made it look. Interrogation in a poorly lit, grungy stockroom in a backwoods hotel couldn't possibly be pleasant, even when the tough questions come from a friend.

"Just what kinds of updates were you performing on Bobot?" asked Chisato. "Be completely honest."

"Pretty big stuff, actually," said Precis. "I've been working on making him more lifelike. Um, not violent, though. And I wasn't anywhere near done yet."

"Are you completely sure that you couldn't have _accidentally_ fixed up your robot so it could attack someone?"

"He can attack, but only when I command him. I was extra careful to put a safety mechanism in place to keep him from doing anything dangerous when I'm not fighting bad guys."

"I just need to be certain," said Chisato. "We don't even know how Leon died yet, so we can't go jumping to any conclusions. Still, didn't I tell you to disassemble Bobot?"

"I did."

"Then why was it in working order just a few minutes ago?"

"It what?"

"I told you to take Bobot apart, but just a few minutes ago, Ernest found it sitting in one piece. He was going to take the disassembled Bobot to Bowman to help him investigate the body. Maybe he could compare Bobot to what he could find on Leon and come up with some hypothesis on how the murder happened. That's not what matters, though. What I'm interested in now is how Bobot was in one piece, even though you say you took it apart."

"It couldn't have been in one piece! I made sure everything was shut down and… and…"

"And?"

"Do you think Bobot could have put himself back together?"

"Possibly. I'm considering the idea."

"That would make me some sort of genius, don't you think?"

Chisato frowned, took a notepad out of her shirt pocket, and scribbled something down. "Yes, it would."

"I mean, if Bobot taught himself how to put himself together without my help, then my artificial intelligence routines must be even more amazing than I thought. Bobot can… learn."

"Indeed, that would be impressive." Chisato scratched her chin.

"I've been putting lots and lots of work into Bobot lately," said Precis. "Every night, I stay up late working on him. He's my passion, you know. Besides Ashton, I mean."

"I don't know that I've ever seen you even talking to Leon," said Chisato. The change of subject startled Precis.

"No, not much."

"Then there's probably no mention of him in Bobot's programming."

"I specifically mentioned him as someone never to target. You know how battles are, right?"

"Crowded. Busy. Fast."

"So I have to make sure Bobot knows not to attack anyone friendly."

"And yet we have a dead body, with a trail of blood leading from the body to Bobot."

"That does look kind of bad, doesn't it?"

Chisato narrowed her eyes. "It does. But there's too much that doesn't make sense right now to go laying any accusations on anyone. All I can say is that Bobot looks very suspicious right now, and I want you to make sure it doesn't have the power to get up and move around."

"What will I do at night, then?" said Precis. "I usually work on Bobot and talk to Ashton. Until I talk too much about Bobot, and then Ashton falls asleep, but then I just work on Bobot."

"Maybe Ashton will be relieved to talk about something other than Bobot."

"Maybe, but he loves Bobot as much as I do."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Yep!"

"Maybe he's saying that because he loves you. Why don't you try something else? And keep a watchful eye out. There's still a killer on the loose."

"Yeah, you don't have to remind me."

"That's all for now, Precis. Take care, please."

Precis stood, make a quick bow, and ducked out of the room, head spinning.

XXX

"Poison," announced Bowman to the room. "Leon died from ingesting a mandrake."

Gasps issued from the gathered party. Chisato in particular looked displeased.

"Where did the blood come from, then?"

Bowman frowned. "I don't know. All I do know is that he had enough mandrake in him to kill a Mithril Eater, and it was half digested. That rules out the possibility of someone stuffing it down his throat after killing him in some other way."

"There's still too much we don't understand," said Chisato. "But at least we know a little bit more than we did. That's a start."

"I'll keep looking things over to see if I can report anything else," said Bowman. "That blood had to come from somewhere."

Dias piped up. "Did you confirm that the blood belonged to Leon?"

Both Chisato and Bowman startled. "Um," said Bowman, "no."

"Why did I not think of that?" said Chisato. "The killer could have been the one hurt. That would explain the blood in the hallway, wouldn't it?"

"But wouldn't someone have heard the struggle?" asked Ernest.

"Not necessarily," said Celine. "Chisato, do you mind if I report what I saw?"

"Go ahead," said Chisato.

"Good," said Celine. "I looked at the books Leon was writing, and I found something interesting on the last finished page of _Special Heraldry_. Anyone care to guess what it was?"

"Tell us," said Chisato. "And keep in mind that most of us have no training in Heraldry."

"It appears that Leon was not just recording knowledge everyone already knows. He was investigating Heraldic spells of his own invention. He was, in a word, innovating."

"How so?" said Rena, looking interested.

"On the page I was looking at, I saw a drawing of one basic, familiar crest, and another drawing of a more advanced crest, the like of which I had never seen before. According to the text, the new crest was some sort of amplification spell. Combined with another crest, it could increase the effect of a magic spell by a least an order of magnitude. It was an incredible discovery, and it certainly would have won Leon some prestige at the Heraldry research laboratory in Lacour. Unfortunately, it proved to be his undoing. Care to guess why?"

"The other crest was for the Silence spell!" said Chisato.

"Correct," said Celine. "Quite impressive of you to figure that out."

"I pride myself on my critical thinking skills," said Chisato.

"As well you should. But yes, the Silence crest was there. And outside of the book, I saw two Heraldic crest carvings into a star ruby, overlapping one another. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that Leon had been using the star ruby as a testing field for his new Heraldry. And last night, he was testing his amplification spell applied to Silence."

"So even if there had been some sort of struggle, no one would have heard because of the magic!" Chisato sounded inappropriately bubbly. "That's one mystery solved, at least. It also explains how the killer could have gotten into Precis and Ashton's room without waking either of them."

"Do we even know it was a murder?" asked Dias. "Leon could have taken the mandrake by accident."

"It was murder," said Bowman. "My autopsy showed that the mandrake wasn't chewed up. Someone forced it down Leon's throat. Also, a suicide would not account for the blood leading to Bobot's closet."

"What does Bobot have to do with anything if it wasn't the murder weapon, though?" asked Chisato. "That's what I'd like to know. It could have been an attempt to frame Precis, but it would have been a clumsy attempt. Her only connection to the murder was Bobot, and if Bobot wasn't the weapon, then suddenly she has no connection. And I still want to know where the blood came from and why it got where it was. I think it belongs to the killer, but Bowman will have to get back to me on that."

"So you guys aren't going to be accusing me anymore?" asked Precis. "I mean, just think of how I felt, being accused of a crime I didn't commit. And you made poor Ashton uncomfortable."

"Why don't you think of poor Leon?" said Dias. "Until we had reason to believe you were innocent, we had to suspect you. The blood in your closet was a pretty bad sign."

"But…" Precis began, but Ashton squeezed her shoulder and pulled her back.

"It's okay now, dear," he whispered to her. "We all know you didn't do it. And you know I'll keep you safe from whoever the killer really is. I hope so, anyway."

"Ashton, I need you to be more confident now! Make me feel safe! Now, of all times."

"Okay, then," he said. "I promise I'll protect you."

"That's better."

XXX

"Precis," said Rena, "I need to speak with you alone. Would you please follow me?"

"Okay," said Precis. "I'm always happy to entertain a defeated rival."

"I never liked Ashton," said Rena. "We've been over this a thousand times. You two experienced love at first sight. I was a little jealous of you for that, but I never loved Ashton."

"Right. Whatever."

Precis and Rena moved into Rena's room. Rena locked the door.

"Do you get the sense that something is not quite right with the investigation?" asked Rena.

"Well, there's Chisato acting like she's Miss Master Detective, bossing me around and trying to make me confess or something. And Dias is being a jerk."

"Something else, though." Rena sat down on her bed and motioned for Precis to sit next to her. "Do you get the idea that everyone is, well, forgetting something?"

"What?"

Rena fidgeted. "I hoped you would be the one who could understand, but maybe I was wrong in that. You are just as clueless as the rest."

"Aren't I always clueless?" Precis yelped. "What is it? What am I missing?"

"Leon!"

"Of course I'm missing him. He's… Oh, I get it."

"Everyone is running around playing detective, and one of our best friends is dead. Has no one stopped to think about that? Leon is gone!"

"Now that you mention it…"

"And I shouldn't have to mention it! Because of the actions of one individual, Leon will never talk again. He was so young, too. Someone stole his life from him, and from us, and no one seems to care."

"Rena, I think all the running about solving the crime is their way of caring."

"But no one is even sad!"

"I'm sad," Precis shot, suddenly curt. She relaxed a little before continuing. "I'm sad, and I'm sure I'm going to be more sad later when everything sinks in. And I think everyone else is the same way. We just don't want to think about the loss until we get our work done."

"What if someone else dies next, though? What if I die? Will everyone forget me so quickly?"

"We haven't forgotten Leon. If we had forgotten him, we wouldn't be doing all this for him."

"Bowman just cut him up into pieces. Precis, if I die, I don't want to be cut up like that. Not so soon, and not by a friend."

"Bowman is your friend?"

"He's an acquaintance. That's close enough. A friend of a friend."

"He's a dirty, sexist pig. And he keeps staring at you. Doesn't that make you uncomfortable?"

"He stares at all the women, especially Celine and Opera. I suppose that's one more reason why I don't want him looking at me after I die. We're getting off topic, though."

"Sorry." Precis nudged closer to her friend. "Rena, I won't forget you, and neither will Claude. You two love each other, right?"

"Right."

"I know if anything happened to me, Ashton would never get over it. It's the same with you and Claude. Maybe you should tell him that he needs to be extra careful with you while you're scared. I know Ashton owes me some extra comfort until this whole mess clears up."

"Maybe."

"And so I'm going to make sure he's by my side. And I'll stay by his. Because that's what love is, you know? I owe him the same loyalty, and I'll always remember him. And then I don't have to worry about him forgetting me. That's part of love."

"Beautiful speech, Precis."

"Friendship works that way, too. We're best friends, right?"

"Right."

"Then the four of us – you, me, my Ashton, your Claude – we're all going to stick together, to the bitter end and past the bitter end."

"You've gotten all philosophical on me, Precis."

"I do that when I'm worried."

"You should go back to Ashton, then. And I should go talk to Claude."

"That's a good idea."

"And Precis?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for reminding me."

"That's what friends are for."


	3. The Naked Truth

Chapter 3

"You're too stressed out, Ashton," said Precis as she tucked the love of her life into bed. "You need to relax. Just lie there and listen while I tell you all about my newest upgrades to Bobot 3.0. You're listening, right?"

"Sure," Ashton mumbled, pulling the covers up over his head. "Talk all you want. Don't mind me."

"Great! See, you know how we've been fighting lots of fish monsters lately?"

Ashton did not reply.

"Well, we have. And what better way is there to kill fish than to fry them with high powered electrical attacks? Can you guess what I've done with Bobot, then?"

"What?" Ashton sounded groggy.

"I've installed an electro-gun, which I'm calling the Super Delicious Ultra Zapper, or S.D.U.Z. for short. Bobot will be even more helpful to us in battle now."

"Just be sure to take him apart before you go to sleep, 'mkay, darling?"

"Yeah, I know. I don't want either of us getting shocked in the middle of the night. No way."

"Great. Good night."

"Good night, Ashton."

XXX

Precis looked around the breakfast table at the people who had already begun to eat. She nudged Ashton and whispered to him that she hadn't seen either Rena or Noel all morning, but Ashton reminded her that both of the absentees were notoriously late sleepers and so she shouldn't worry. She was just about to begin picking at her bacon and eggs platter when something ran into the room and interrupted everyone's meal.

The something looked like an extremely pale bipedal, humanoid monster. It dashed into the dining room from the hallway with enough speed to both startle everyone and keep them from getting a good look at the invader. It moved far from silently; erupting from its mouth (if it was indeed a mouth) came an incessant stream of incomprehensible wailing, like it was in pain or afraid of something or about to kill its prey. At first, no one had any idea what species it could be.

Then, Chisato figured out that it was a native of Nede.

"Rena?" Chisato looked stunned. "What's wrong? And why are you naked?"

The blur didn't stop its wailing. Instead, it became more frantic and began waving its arms over its head.

"That's Rena?" said Bowman. "Wow. I never expected…"

Claude gave Bowman a dirty look, flipped his glass of orange juice over Bowman's head, and ran over to Rena. He attempted to restrain her wild arm movements while at the same time taking off his jacket in order to cover her up. He seemed to be trying to get her to calm down and explain what was wrong in plain Terran.

Precis knew something had to be amiss; Rena wasn't normally the type to streak through hotel lobbies. It was just beginning to dawn on her that there may have been another murder when she caught Ashton staring at Rena.

"Stop that, Ash!" She slapped him hard across the face.

"W-what?" Ashton snapped back to reality. "Sorry, I just…"

"There's no excuse for that. I'm the only girl for you now, and I don't want you looking at some tramp."

"I wasn't…"

"Don't lie to me, mister! I saw you."

"But I was just wondering…"

"What some other girl looks like when she's completely out of her mind? I told you…"

And then Claude spoke loudly enough to halt the rest of the room's activity. "The killer has struck again!"

Nearly everyone gasped.

XXX

It took a few minutes for Rena to calm down and put on a robe, but she eventually led the rest of the group to the new crime scene – the hotel's community bathroom.

"You see, I was just about to get in the shower," said Rena. "I reached in to turn on the water, and I saw that the tub was not empty."

"You don't mean…?" said Chisato.

"This!" Rena pulled aside the shower curtain, revealing a dead body. Noel Chandler, former biologist, slumped against the back rim of the bathtub, head lolling to the side and skin looking somewhat charred. He was by far the last thing anyone would have wanted to see in a bathroom.

"Eww," said Precis. "What happened?"

"Looks like he was electrocuted," said Bowman. "I've seen it happen before."

"Positively frightful," said Celine.

"I think you may be right, Bowman," said Chisato. "Look! Noel's not alone in the bathtub."

Indeed, a nearly inconspicuous wire ran out the end of the tub opposite Noel. Bowman slipped on a couple of rubber gloves from his pockets and tugged to see what was attached. It turned out that an electric toaster rested somewhere near Noel's feet.

"I think we have our cause of death," said Chisato. "Very gruesome."

"Looks that way to me, too," said Bowman. "What a way to go! One minute, he's lying back and enjoying a relaxing hot bath, and the next minute, our killer jumps out of nowhere and makes the bath a little too hot for comfort."

Chisato continued, "And then Rena came in for her own bath a little too late to catch whoever did this. She's lucky, though. She could have been the one killed."

"Hey, I was traumatized," said Rena. "A little sympathy, please?"

Claude drew her close and held her tightly enough to stop her twitching.

"Thanks, Claude," she whispered.

"So, Rena," interrupted Chisato, "did you notice anything out of the ordinary while you were gallivanting around the hotel in the nude? Some clue to our killer's identity, maybe?"

Rena's face turned bright red. "I didn't mean to do that, you know! I just… forgot that I, well, that I was getting in the tub. Seeing a dead body will do that, you know?"

"We understand," said Chisato. "Does that mean you didn't notice anything that could help?"

"Not so much. I didn't even know that anything was wrong until I opened the curtain, and from that point, you guys saw everything as much as I did."

"Did we ever!" said Bowman, prompting Claude to punch him in the stomach.

"Ugh. Yeah, I deserved that."

Chisato didn't seem to be paying attention. "If we don't have any clues yet, then we'll have to find some. Let's everyone get looking!"

XXX

"Ash, I'm scared," said Precis. "At first I thought someone just had a grudge against Leon, 'cause, I mean, who didn't hate the little brat? If the killer didn't kill him, I'm sure someone else would have. But now, with Noel gone, I don't feel safe anymore."

"You're safe with me," said Ashton. "Me, and Gyoro and Ururun. They can keep watch even when I'm tired, and you know I'd never let anyone hurt you."

"I still don't feel right. What if someone comes after me while I'm taking a bath?"

"Just don't bathe. It's not like you bathe all that often anyway."

"Hey, that's not funny!" Precis narrowed her eyes and pouted.

"I'm just being honest," said Ashton. "And besides, Chisato and Bowman will have this case cracked in no time. You don't have anything to worry about."

"I hope you're right, but I'd still feel safer if I could activate Bobot again."

"Oh, that's right." Ashton's face brightened up. "Was Bobot turned off during the second murder?"

"Let me check."

"If so, then I see no reason why you couldn't eliminate him from suspicion entirely."

"Drat! I knew I turned him off, but I must have forgotten." Precis smashed her hand against the floor of the closet. "He's sitting here, powered up, waiting for a command."

"Why not give him some commands to keep him busy?"

"Like what?" Precis looked confused.

"Well, we could use Bobot to keep watch for us, since he doesn't have to sleep. And you could even take him into the shower room with you."

"That's pretty slick thinking, Ash."

"Thanks."

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"I know."

"So, you wanna work with Bobot a little before we go to sleep?"

"What's tonight's project?"

"I'd like to practice Holo-Holograph a little more. Maybe Bobot can fight off intruders."

"Sure." Ashton pulled his swords from the closet. "I'll help however I can. That's the program where Bobot imitates my Sword Dance move, right?"

"Yep, it is!" said Precis. "We should just work on it for a bit, and then I'll have Bobot ready to slice and dice anyone trying to kill us in the night."

"You know," said Ashton, "I guess if Bobot were the killer, he would have gotten you already. It wouldn't have been hard."

"I didn't think of it that way," said Precis. "Someone should tell that to Chisato."

"Maybe tomorrow," said Ashton. "For now, let's get to work."


	4. Splitting Apart

Chapter 4

Chisato Madison addressed the survivors gathered in the hotel lobby. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've found another clue to last night's killing. Remember how Leon had been working on his Heraldry book? Well, I found another star ruby with an amplified silence crest carved into it."

"In the bathroom?" Bowman asked.

"And why did you call us here at this awful hour?" Celine asked.

"Yep," said Chisato, ignoring Celine. "It was hidden under the bath water. Out of sight."

"Interesting," said Bowman. "You know, it wasn't the only thing we could learn from the water."

"Really? Did you find something?" Chisato scratched her chin.

"I did. Something I wouldn't have been able to see without taking sample of the water back to my room for analysis."

"Analysis?" said Celine. "How much junk have you been carrying around with you this whole journey?"

"Enough, my dear," said Bowman

"Don't call me dear, darling," said Celine. "That was a long time ago. Just tell us what you found."

"Oil!"

The gathered crowd began to murmur.

XXX

"It doesn't prove anything," Precis told Ashton as they went back to their room. "I mean, don't you think Rena has really oily skin? Maybe it came from her."

"Chisato said it was the kind or oil you use to lubricate Bobot's limbs when he walks," said Ashton. "I know that doesn't _prove_ anything, but it's still not a good sign."

"But Bobot was with me all last night!" Precis insisted. "I'm sure of it."

"I believe you," said Ashton, "but I don't think Chisato does. We need to prove her wrong."

"I'm sure Bobot is innocent. He can't kill anyone I don't program him to kill, and I never programmed him to kill Noel. Machines aren't evil. They can't be. Only people misusing them can be evil. Machines are just things. Even Bobot."

"I already said I believed you." Ashton put his arm around Precis's shoulder and squeezed. Precis relaxed.

"I know. I know. I just don't know what to make of all this."

"We'll think more after we go back to bed."

"I want to work a little more on Holo-Holograph first," said Precis.

"More?" Ashton reached for the doorknob, opened up the room, and stood aside to let Precis in first.

"More. I want to feel perfectly safe."

"I want you to, too." Ashton entered and picked up his swords. Gyoro and Ururun, tired of worked out, grumbled.

XXX

Precis finally managed to fall asleep, but only after an hour of tossing and turning. Her dreams troubled her nearly as much as the events of the previous two days. In one, she found herself sitting in an eerily pleasant green meadow next to a five-story tall Bobot, who smiled a toothy smile at her, frolicked for a while, and treated her like she was his best friend. Then the sky grew dark, Bobot's eyes turned red, several helicopters flew by, and Bobot began shooting lasers out of his eyes at the helicopters. The dream ended just as an earthquake caused Precis to fall into a large crack in the ground. In her next dream, pretty much the same scenario played out, but her five-story tall buddy was Ashton instead of Bobot.

Precis finally woke up to something even more horrifying.

"Bobot!"

Standing in the closet, arms stretched upward, body and daggers covered in blood, Bobot made a disturbing sight. His pose took a second to register in Precis's mind, but she soon recognized it as the triumphant flourish at the end of the Holo-Holograph routine.

"Ashton, wake up!"

Ashton rolled out of bed and onto the floor. "Precis?"

"Ashton, there's something wrong with Bobot!"

"What is it this time?"

"I think someone's been misusing him. He's… just come look for yourself."

"Aiiiee!" Ashton seemed to find himself shaken fully awake. "He's… Is that blood?"

"I think so. Bowman will be able to tell us for sure."

Precis began breathing heavily. Her composure slipped away, and she curled up on the floor.

"The killer was here last night!"

"Precis…"

"He was here! Why didn't you stop him?"

"I had no idea he was even here. How could I have?" Ashton blushed. "But he didn't attack you, right?"

"What if he did? You didn't do anything about it. He could have slit my throat in the night, and then I would have died. That would serve you right, too. You said you'd protect me."

"And I will. Precis, you know I will."

"How am I supposed to know that if you can't even stop him from walking right by me?"

"He must be sneaky. Bobot didn't notice him, either. Maybe he's using that silence crest."

"Ashton, you're so useless. You're supposed to love me, but you can't even protect me."

"I do love you. And I will protect you."

"Why didn't you, then?"

Ashton's face betrayed a hint of annoyance. "I have to sleep, too, you know. If I'm awake all the time, I won't be much of a bodyguard. You need to think of that."

"You're not much of a bodyguard anyway, you know? I can't believe you let a crazy killer walk right by me."

"I don't know how he did it, Precis."

"That's no excuse. You can't keep your promises at all, can you?"  
"Precis." Ashton assumed a slightly calmer tone. "You remember our wedding day?"

"I remember."

"Remember when I promised you I'd always be with you? I'd always protect you? I still mean that. That was my vow."

"Yeah, well, you didn't seem to care much for me yesterday when you were staring at that tramp Rena. What were you thinking? I'll bet you let the killer in just to knock me off. When death does us part, then you can have Rena without any of this."

"Any of what?" Ashton looked confused until Precis hopped up and slapped his cheek with as much strength as she could muster.

"I hate you, Ashton. I'm sorry I ever married you. You're a lousy, good-for-nothing excuse for a husband and protector."

"Precis," said Ashton, looking worried, "did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason the killer got in was because Bobot is the killer?"

"How dare you say that? How dare you? Trying to excuse your own incompetence by blaming Bobot."

"I'm just saying that there's nothing I could have done."

"Get out of here! Now! I don't want to see you today."

"Precis, you're overreacting."

"Out! We'll talk about this later, when I'm in a better mood."

"If you're going to be that way, then fine. I'll leave, but I'll be back later."

"You'd better get yourself one of those rollaway mattresses, because you sure won't be sleeping in my bed for a long, long time."

Ashton said nothing. He hung his head in shame and frustration, dressed himself, picked up his swords, and walked out the door like a defeated contestant at the Lacour Tournament of Arms. Precis scowled as he exited

Then, to her surprise, Ashton came back in the room.

"Precis, you'd better come with me. I don't want to leave you alone with Bobot until we figure out what's going on here."

Precis spat out her tongue, felt around the floor of her closet for the nearest shoe, and hurled her shoe at Ashton's face. It hit the door. At the last second, Gyoro turned his head back toward Precis and hissed.

XXX

"What have you found?" Bowman asked Chisato. "Any clues?"

The two looked over the mangled and gashed body of Dias Flac, master swordsman and professional wet blanket. Rather, they looked over part of it. Other parts of it lay strewn about the walls of the hotel gym.

"This has to be the worst one yet," said Chisato. "Quite violent. He must have suffered, and he definitely knew it was coming."

"Who could have done this?" said Bowman. "Dias was nearly invincible. He made the foul beasts of Eluria Tower look like domesticated kittens. Er, dead domesticated kittens. You know what I mean."

"Someone sure handled him here," said Chisato. "Look at this! It must have been quite a fight. There has to be another one of those star rubies with a silence crest somewhere, I'd wager. Otherwise, wouldn't someone have heard?"

"Maybe," said Bowman, "or maybe not. Dias usually got up early to work out. A couple of times, I joined him, and I noticed he got pretty noisy."

"There would have been screaming."

"Okay, I see your point. Unless the killer cut his throat or something."

"From what I can tell, the killer cut him pretty much everywhere. No mercy. To be honest, I'm getting a little nervous."

"Me, too. That's why we need to solve this case."

"We'd best find Precis. I need to make sure her Bobot was turned off last night."

"Can Bobot use a sword?"

"I don't know. I've seen that thing do some pretty strange things in fights, but really, I haven't seen anything to make me think it could have done something like this to Dias. Poor guy."

Chisato felt her eyes get misty, so she turned away from Bowman and wiped her face on her sleeve. There would be time for emotions later, once she was sure no one else would be dying. As much as she hated to seem cold, she had a duty to protect her friends.

"I need to step out and think this over for a while. Will you be okay by yourself?"

"I don't particularly want to be. This has me pretty spooked, but I think I'll be fine if I stick around Ernest."

"Scary stuff, you know. There's someone or something extremely powerful out there, and it has wanted at least three of our group dead. Maybe more."

"Chisato, I know you're pretty good with uncovering the truth. I know that because it was my job back when I was a researcher. I trust that, working together, we can catch this guy."

"Thanks for the optimism. Really. And I promise I'll get to the bottom of this. You'll be able to go back home to Nineh."

"I hope so."

XXX

Ashton met Chisato in the hallway. The first thing he noticed when he saw her was that something seemed to be bothering her nearly as much as something was bothering him.

"Chisato? You okay?"

"Ashton! Just the fellow I was looking for. Have you seen Precis?"

"Um, yes."

Chisato's eyes flashed. "Where? I need to see her."

"I left her back in our room. She's a little cranky right now, so…"

"Ashton, you idiot! You left her alone with Bobot?"

"She threw her shoe at me!"

"We're going over there, right now. Come."

Without waiting for any protest, Chisato snatched Ashton's arm and dragged him down the hallway.

XXX

The first thing Ashton noticed when he got back to his room was that Precis wasn't talking. She didn't seem to be up for doing anything other than curling up on the bed, half hiding under the blanket, and sobbing her eyes out. He tried placing a comforting hand on her back, but she slapped it away. Gyoro hissed at her again, but she hissed back even more fiercely.

"Ashton!" Chisato called from off to the side of the room. "Did you see this?"

"See… Oh, yeah," said Ashton. "The blood?"

"Why the heck did you leave her alone when her robot is sitting here, covered in blood?"

"I told you, she tried to hurt me."

"You're going to get her killed with your carelessness. Don't you ever stop to think?"

"But what if it's not Bobot? Someone could just as easily be sneaking in the room and trying to frame him to throw everyone off the scent."

"Ashton." Chisato adopted a level, gravely serious tone. "You have the body of Dias Flac lying in several pieces in the other room. You have a robot sitting here with two bloody swords. What more do you want? Do you want Bobot to sign a confession?"

"Bobot was turned off! He couldn't have done it. I tell you, someone is trying to use him to get away with murder."

"Did Precis sell you that line? I'm not convinced."

"Look, did you stop to ask yourself if a little robot could outduel the third greatest swordsman on Expel?"

"Third greatest?"

"Well, behind Claude and, well, Precis always makes me say I'm the best. I don't really believe her, but she insists. Now I'm saying it out of habit."

"I see what you're saying, though, and it bothers me. I can't imagine Dias losing a fight to what looks like a little blue cookie jar with legs. Certainly not a sword fight."

"Then what now?"

"I'm going to have a look around. But Bobot is still my number one suspect. There's too much evidence pointing to it to let me lower my guard."

Chisato began scouring the closet for clues. While she did so, Precis poked her head out from under the covers of the bed.

"So, you're bringing other women home with you, now that I'm angry? You're despicable."

And that was the last thing she said to anyone for the rest of the day.

XXX

"I deactivated Bobot and took out its power source," Chisato announced to the gathered crowd. "I'm at a loss to explain how the latest killing could have taken place, but I want to play it safe for now. I also found some more clues that make no sense whatsoever.

"Like what?" asked Celine.

"Like some of the clothes hanging in the closet. There was an outfit distinctly belonging to Precis, and it was covered head to toe in blood. Bowman identified it as Dias's blood. I don't really know what to think. I can see how Bobot or some other killer could have tracked it back to the closet, but that doesn't explain how it could get on something hanging up. It was just one outfit, too. And it was not the one Precis was wearing yesterday."

"Precis couldn't be guilty," said Ashton. "I saw her go to sleep, and I know she didn't wake up."

"Precis has been unstable lately, Ashton. I need for you to keep watch over her tonight."

"I intend to. I think she needs me now, and I have to keep her safe. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to her."

"You really should go to her now," said Opera. "She's not safe by herself."

Ashton nodded. Inhaling deeply, he stood up and headed back to where Precis was.

XXX

When he got back to his room, Ashton found the door locked, with a note taped to the outside:

_Ashton,_

_I don't want to see you tonight. You are worthless. Go away._

_-Precis_

After fifteen minutes of banging on the door, Ashton finally walked away, pondering whether Ernest or Bowman would make a better temporary roommate.


	5. Slipping Away

Chapter 5

"Of course you can stay with me," said Ernest. "Just make yourself at home. I'll try to be as sympathetic as I can."

"Thanks," said Ashton. "What a nightmare this all is!"

"You said it," said Ernest. "Though, some good could come out of it all. I mean, if you're single again, then you could make an attempt to charm Opera and get her to stop chasing me."

"I have no interest in Opera," said Ashton. "I only love Precis."

"Too bad. She's actually close to your age, and I can't imagine her ever getting angry at someone she loves. Heck, I ran halfway across the universe just to get away from her, and that just made her obsess over me even more!"

"It's not that I can't see how much trouble girls cause," said Ashton. "It's that I really love Precis, even though she gets like this sometimes. Though, it's never been this bad before."

"Just try to relax. Oh, and know that I'm not the killer. Don't let that worry you too much."

"I won't. Though I'm worried about Precis."

Ernest dug through his room's minibar for a packet of tea and began to brew drinks for himself and his guest. When they were ready, he added a shot of alcohol to each and reclined in one of the room's stuffed chairs. Ashton took the other, and the two attempted to relax before going to sleep.

Ernest piped up, "You know, your being here could be good for me, too."

"Really? How?"

"I don't know how many people around here know about this, but sometimes, while our party is staying at an inn, Opera will sneak out of her room at night and climb in bed with me. Now, don't be thinking anything dirty! I don't even notice, and all she does is hold me until she falls asleep herself. But still, it's annoying to me, and I don't think it's appropriate. Maybe with one more person around, she might not be brave enough to bother me at night."

"Can't you just kick her out yourself?"

"I told you, I don't even see her. She waits until I'm asleep."

"I see."

"In any case, you help me, and I'll help you. Starting tomorrow, maybe we can try to patch things up with Precis. Sound good?"

"Thanks, Ernest."

"No problem. I'm going to turn in now, though. Good night."

Ernest set his drink down on the nightstand. Ashton finished his, curled up in his chair, and waited for the world to fade away.

XXX

The next morning, Ernest tripped as he walked from his bed to the bathroom for his morning shave. He tumbled forward and bumped his nose against the carpeting.

"Yeeeawch! What the…?"

The noise jolted Ashton awake, and he glanced over at where Ernest lay crumpled on the floor, tangled up with what looked like another figure. Upon closer inspection, the other figure turned out to be a woman, in her early 20's, wearing large curlers and a high cut nightgown. And she had three eyes. Ashton laughed.

"Looks like you had a lady caller in the night," said Ashton. "Boy, she sure likes you a lot."

"It would appear so," said Ernest. "Though her outfit confuses me. The nightgown tells me she was trying to look alluring, and the curlers tell me she didn't care how she looked."

"Maybe she knew you weren't going to see her, so she tried to feel alluring while keeping her hair nice and wavy for tomorrow. Or maybe she was just drunk again."

"Good eye, Ashton," said Ernest, looking at the floor. "Notice how my teacup is lying next to her hand, spilled all over the floor."

"Does she ever quit?"

"It would appear not. Maybe I should have a talk with her about her drinking when she wakes up."

Ashton found himself feeling slightly better for the comic relief provided by Opera's midnight escapade, and for a minute or two, he actually forgot all about Precis. While looking in a mirror on the wall, he even began to think he looked a little better than he had the previous night. He was just beginning to think he could face the day and head down to breakfast when Ernest tapped him on the shoulder.

"Uh, Ashton, did you happen to notice that Opera wasn't breathing?"

XXX

"Looks like poison to me," said Bowman after only a few minutes of examining the corpse. "I don't think it was the same kind that killed Leon, but I can't be completely sure of that until I have a little more time to investigate. You found anything, Chisato?"

"Nothing much so far," said Chisato. "Not even one of those star rubies with the Silence crest. And that's what troubles me. If the killer got in here last night, how did he remain undetected?"

"I can sleep through just about anything," said Ernest. "Apparently, so can Ashton."

"Must be so," said Ashton. "Whoever is behind all this managed to get past me a couple of times without waking me up, so I'm not surprised he did it again."

"I can live with that," said Chisato.

"Who's to say he didn't just accidentally leave those crests behind during the first two murders, anyway?" wondered Ashton. "Maybe he's been carrying them off with him."

Chisato slapped her forehead. "All this time, and I didn't think of that?"

"You've been under a lot of pressure," said Ashton, "so I don't blame you. None of the rest of us figured it out, either, did we?"

"You're right," said Chisato. "That leaves us with a way for the killer to sneak in to do the job. But why Opera? And how did he know Opera would be in here? Come to think of it, what _was_ Opera doing in here last night? Dressed like that?"

"It's not what it looks like!" said Ernest, face turning pink. "You know how obsessive she is, don't you? She sometimes sneaks into my room at night."

"So it's exactly what it looks like," said Chisato.

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, she does sneak in, but nothing happens. She just sneaks into bed with me."

Chisato snorted. "You're not helping your cause any, Ernest."

"No, not that way! She just lies there and snuggles up to me, and then when I wake up, she's right there! I told her to stop, but she kept doing it anyway."

"And you killed her to make her stop!" Chisato's eyes flared up for a split second, but then she reeled her head back in embarrassment, apologizing profusely. "Sorry. I don't really know what came over me. There's no reason to suspect you in particular, and you hardly had any connection to the other people who turned up dead."

"Besides," said Ashton, "that poison might not have been meant for Opera. Ernest and I had a drink last night before dinner, and that cup on the floor was his! I'll bet the killer saw that it wasn't empty and tried to do Ernest in, and then Opera sneaked in finished it off for him. She wasn't the target."

"Good thinking," said Chisato. "That accounts for Opera being the victim even though no one knew she was around. I wish I more to go on for this one, though. I don't see anything else useful in here. You remembered to lock your door last night, didn't you, Ernest?"

"What? I mean, I should have. I did, yes. I remember locking it."

"Then how…?"

"Oh, but then I let Ashton in. I can't be sure I locked it behind him when he came in. Actually, I must not have, since I don't think I gave Opera a key this time."

"You don't like her sneaking into your room, yet you give her your room key?"

"She's an archaeology student, and she needs access to my extensive notes. Nothing more."

"Right." Chisato narrowed her eyes. "That makes perfect sense."

XXX

Chisato and Bowman sat in the lounge, sipping tea and discussing the state of the investigation. Chisato looked troubled.

"Did no one listen to me when I said we should all be rooming with other people?" she asked. "I distinctly remember saying that, and yet when Ashton came to see Ernest, he found him alone. I don't suppose he was counting Opera as his roommate. She and Celine were supposed to be with me."

"I don't actually know the rooming situation," said Bowman. "I've been by myself since Dias died."

"I think you should move in with Ashton and Ernest," said Chisato. "Actually, I think Ashton should be staying with Precis, and you and Bowman should share a room. It's safer that way."

"Precis isn't speaking to Ashton anymore, remember? That's why he came to stay with me."

"Oh, right. I really am starting to lose it, aren't I? I normally wouldn't forget something like that."

"We're all under a lot of pressure right now. Even I'm not up to my usual standards of excellence. I've had so much to do that I've been tiring out and slipping a little. It took me twice as long as usual to figure out what kind of poison was in Opera's drink."

"Oh, you found out? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't all that useful. It's not much of a clue."

"Anything can become a useful clue. We need to find everything that could possibly be useful so we can narrow them down to the clues that actually are useful. Tell me the poison."

"Iocaine powder."

"Iocaine powder? I've never heard of it before."

"It's rare and deadly. Only a pinch of it will kill you, and it's colorless and odorless. Plus, it dissolves in water. It's the perfect weapon for an assassin who wants to be discreet."

"Drat. Though if it's that hard to come by, we can narrow any list of suspects down to only those who would have access to it."

"Unfortunately, I think it's only rare on other planets. I've seen it at the university co-op here. Our killer could have bought it just down the street."

"Would the clerk have a record of customers, then?"

"Not the customers who pay cash, and that's just about everybody. I doubt an assassin would be stupid enough to cover business expenses with a personal check. At least, not an assassin as smart as the one we seem to be dealing with."

Chisato buried her face in her hands. "This is all so frustrating. This latest killing doesn't even look like it was the work of Precis's Bobot. That just makes it even more confusing."

"Have you checked it out?"

"No, Precis has barricaded herself in her room. She won't even speak unless she's sure Ashton is not at the door, and when she does talk, she doesn't say much. She absolutely refuses to open the door for anyone."

"Then how can we check to make sure Bobot is turned off?"

"We can't. I don't think it is, either. Precis seems to be relying on her machine for security, with Ashton gone. That's one more reason I'd like to see those two make up. Then we can destroy Bobot and see if the killing stop."

"But if the door was locked, how could Bobot have gotten out?"

"It could have stolen Precis's key or ever Ashton's key. In a pinch, it might even have gone out the window. I don't know how advanced it is, so I'm not sure if it's capable of that sort of thing. I just know I don't trust it one bit."

"Until we have proof, we don't want to be destroying Precis's life's work, do we?"

"People are dying, Bowman!" Chisato's teeth clenched. "Dying! And one of us could be next."

"But suppose Precis is right and the killer really is someone else. Then we take Bobot apart, and the killer gets to her and kills her."

"The killer has been in her room several times and hasn't done her in yet. It's almost as if he likes her."

"I don't see a proper motive for any of these crimes. I couldn't even blame Ernest, since it looks to me like he wasn't as against Opera's midnight visits as he wanted to appear."

Chisato yawned. "This is wearing me out. I'm going to need a vacation after this is all over."

"Anyway," continued Ernest, "I'm not ready to blame Bobot for anything as long as Precis insists it couldn't be the culprit. She knows her machines better than anyone here, and she's right when she says a machine can't do something it's not programmed to do. I don't think she would have programmed Bobot for murder."

"No, I guess not."

"And I would know as well as anyone, other than maybe Leon, how attached people can get to their research. It just wouldn't be fair to destroy Bobot without proof that it's killing people."

"But what if it kills me next?"

"You sure know how to ask an unfair question, don't you?"

"Sorry, I'm… I'm going to go now."

And with that, Chisato went back to her room. Bowman could just barely hear her sobbing.

XXX

"Precis, open up!" said Ashton. "Why are you being like this? Why won't you let me apologize?"

No sound issued from Precis's room. The silence felt to Ashton like a knife in his gut.

"Seriously, Precis, what's wrong? I want to help you out!"

Still, nothing.

"Precis, what are you doing in there? How do I know you're safe?"

Ernest laid a comforting hand on Ashton's shoulder. "She told Celine earlier that she was okay. She's in there working with Bobot, trying to feel safe."

"Why won't she let me make her feel safe?"

"You'll just have to give her some more time."

"And does she even care about whether or not I feel safe? Does she even think of that angle? Huh, Precis," Ashton shouted at the door, "Do you? Do you even care about me at all anymore?"

No answer came.


	6. Into the Night

Chapter 6

Chisato's sleep was riddled with terrifying dreams and uncomfortable stretches of lying awake in her bed, sweating, while wishing Celine's snoring could be quieter. Part of her was glad to hear some sign that her roommate was off in slumberland instead of murdering people in the night, but part of her desperately needed some rest to make facing the next day more tolerable. Both parts felt sickly aware that there wasn't any escape from the unease of the situation; sleep meant nightmares, and the waking world meant a rampaging serial killer. A throbbing headache and a growling stomach punctuated the sheer discomfort of it all.

She knew deep down that the killer wanted everyone dead, and she knew she would eventually be the name at the top of the list. Eventually, her fears would have to come true, and all she could do during the night was sit around and wait for that to happen. She half wondered if she might be getting an ulcer, but at least worry, fear, and searing pain meant that, for another night, at least, she was alive.

"I can't go on like this!" Chisato blurted out, forgetting for the moment that Celine was still asleep. Celine snorted and rolled over but appeared not to have woken.

Though she's cried most of her tears away before going to sleep the previous night, Chisato felt a couple of fresh drops sliding down the side of her face and into her right ear. Her stomach began to feel even more like it was twisting in a knot, and she found herself able to hear her heart pounding in rhythm with her head.

A gust of wind outside tossed the window curtains enough to make a shadow dance across the far wall. Chisato's mind told her that the movement was more sinister than it would have appeared on a normal night. She reacted by bolting upright, panting, and wiping her face with the sleeve of her nightgown. Her throat ran dry.

Chisato felt her tolerance for her room wearing thin. Without at least a drink, she could never get back to sleep. Without sleep, she could never keep up the veneer of being competent and in charge, and solving the mystery was her best hope for survival. Taking all of this into account as well as her fragile grip on sanity would allow, she decided that her ideal course of action would be to sneak down to the hotel kitchen to find something to quench her thirst.

Checking the minibar first to make certain that Celine hadn't left anything (which she wouldn't even under more ordinary circumstances), Chisato stepped into her slippers, tiptoed to the door, and, with a creak that sounded much louder than it really could have been, pulled the door open and moved into the hallway. Not surprisingly, she found herself no less chilled by the otherworldly silence and threatening dark corners that greeted her as she made her way to the stairs. At regular intervals, she stopped, pressed herself against the wall, and listened for any sign that she was not the only one awake. None came, though. The only sounds she could make out were the same creaks and groans any old structure would make. By far the loudest noise came from her own footsteps, and those were about as muffled as footsteps had ever been in the history of Expel.

What she couldn't see or hear, Chisato felt with instincts she had built up through her intense and dangerous career. From the moment she first began descending the stairs, she got the impression that she was being watched, though she could not quite tell from where or by whom. Involuntarily, she ducked down next to the guardrail and covered her head, but she quietly cursed at herself for making such a carelessly noisy move. Her head and heart beat even more intensively, and she half worried that either was loud enough to give her away. Still, the optimist in her, tired and shrunken as it was, kept alive in her the hope that her experience with stealth could get her safely to her goal before she could succumb to either and ambush or a heart attack. What worried her was that she could not remember ever feeling quite as afraid during an assignment before, even when her life was just as much in danger.

Chisato reached the bottom of the stairs safely, and she found herself toying with the idea of running for the front door and seeking asylum at Linga University. She could never live with herself if she abandoned her friends, though, so she busied herself with searching for the path to the kitchen.

A particularly heavy flurry of wind beat against the front windows of the inn. Chisato noted how little light the windows let through, and she found herself a dark stretch of floor to follow. She had only gone a few paces when she felt her neck tingling. First her eyes and then her horrified brain became aware that there was some movement in the room just opposite of her. She shrank against the wall and stared into the dark, hoping to catch sight of anything suspicious, and hoping that she had only seen a shadow.

Indeed, she did see a shadow. Some dark trace – of a bird or tree branch outside, Chisato hoped – swayed back and forth across the center of the floor. Chisato shivered as if the temperature in the room had dropped about twenty degrees in just a few seconds. Then, her ever-sharp instincts told her to look up.

Chisato screamed.


	7. Hanging by a Thread

Chapter 7

Precis Neumann was the first to the main hallway. Before anyone else could catch up to her, she managed to fumble for a light switch and peer over the railing at the carnage below. There, she saw not one, but two bodies, both looking quite dead. Slumped on the floor near the front door lay a thin figure with red hair and a nightgown. Hanging directly below Precis was a man with a thin rope around his neck.

"Chisato! Ernest!" Precis involuntarily hopped a foot in the air, half out of shock and half out of horror. "Chisato!"

She rushed down to the door and bent over her fallen friend, sobbing like she herself had been stabbed and beating her mechanical punching hand against the floor. After a crack appeared in the woodwork, she put her weapon away and cradled Chisato's head. It pressed limply against her torso. Running her hand across the face, she could feel a night's worth of tears still damp on Chisato's face.

"No," she managed to say. "And Ernest…"

Precis risked a glance at the swinging corpse, but she managed only a second before the gruesome spectacle overpowered her senses and sent her into a fresh fit of tears – not just for the newly dead, but also for the previous victims, her friends and allies, all taken much too soon for her comfort. In her frustration, she bit her tongue. As her mouth filled with the warm, bitter taste of blood, she imagined herself in the room when the killer struck. She imagined the grisly scene being played out in front of her. She imagined herself the victim, left to die for no reason other than to satisfy the bloodlust of some crazed maniac. Precis began to feel very cold, and very, very alone.

She felt alone enough, in fact, to be thoroughly spooked at the sound of the footsteps at the top of the stairs. She jumped up and gave a short, shrill cry when she saw Ashton standing above her. She felt her fear morph into a rage and then a hatred. Ashton, who could not protect her, had also failed to protect Opera and Ernest. Ashton, the worthless.

Without saying another word, and before anyone else could arrive at the scene, Precis bounded up the stairs, pushed Ashton aside, dashed into her room, and locked the door behind her.

XXX

Even the most battled-hardened of the rest of the crew could not help but flinch at the gristly sight of two new dead comrades. Bowman stumbled slightly when he noticed Ernest for the first time, and Ashton had to grab his arm to keep him from falling down the stairs. Celine looked to everyone else like she was about ready to vomit.

Ashton felt the worst of anyone. He could hardly tell that he had slept at all, and he couldn't get over the fact that he had been in the room with the killer on at least two occasions – when he had gotten past him and Precis earlier, and when he had poisoned Opera. Making matters worse was the expression he had just seen on Precis's face. While he had been dying to see her, he wanted it to be under slightly better circumstances; when she passed by, she had looked as though she had nearly been killed herself. She looked, Ashton thought, as fragile as he had imagined when his worst fear danced through his head: Precis being the one dead on the floor.

What made everything worse was that she didn't even want him to protect her anymore. She wanted so badly to get away from him that she would put herself at risk by sleeping alone and undefended. She only trusted in her Bobot.

_I swear I'll smash that Bobot if I get out of this alive,_ he thought. _I'll smash Bobot into pieces! That thing could very well be the reason everyone's dying, and she won't even trust me over it. I… hate it._

When Ashton snapped to attention, he noticed that he had, without thinking, drawn his swords, as if expecting another attack in the middle of a crowded and well-lit room. Grinning sheepishly, he put them away.

"Two more?" Celine asked Bowman. She looked almost sickly with her sleep-mangled hair and slightly bloodshot eyes. "I don't think I can take this much longer."

"Neither can I," said Bowman, "but luckily, you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?"

"Chisato is still alive."

Everyone fell silent. Bowman pressed his fingers against Chisato's neck.

"Yep," he said, "there's a pulse, and I caught her breathing. I think she's just catatonic. I can't really say why."

"Will she be okay?" said Celine.

"I think so, but let's get her up to her room and lay her down on her bed. You can watch her there. Ashton, fetch me some water from the kitchen."

Ashton stood numbly for a few seconds, but then he carried out Bowman's orders, wondering all the while what could have happened to Chisato and why it didn't seem to fit with the rest of the incidents. He couldn't seem to find any connections between the killings, but then, everyone else was at least dead. Why would the killer leave Chisato alive?

By the time he got back to the others, Celine and Bowman were already lifting Chisato by the arms and moving her toward the stairs. Claude offered to help, too, so Ashton, not needed, stood back and transported only the water bottles.

"Rena," said Bowman, "can you take this for me?"

"Sure," Rena said.

"Good. I want to have a look at Ernest. Everyone but Celine, please meet me back here as soon as possible. I want to go over everything before morning. Where is Precis, by the way?"

"I saw her a bit ago," said Ashton. "She was the first to get downstairs, but she looked a little too disturbed by everything to stick around. I think she's back in her room."

"Well, I hope she locked the door," said Bowman. "And I hope more than anything else she doesn't have Bobot in working order right now."

XXX

"Ernest was hanged with his own whip," said Bowman. "That much is beyond obvious, but I can't seem to figure out what else happened here. I don't see any sign of a struggle, but I'm going to want to inspect the body."

Rena edged closer to Claude. "He died that quickly?"

"I think so," said Bowman. "It's like someone was hiding and waiting for him. That's the only way I can think of to hang someone as tough as Ernest was without making a lot of noise."

"Do you think Chisato saw what happened?" said Claude.

"Doubtful," replied Bowman. "I don't have to look very hard to see that Ernest has been dead for a while. Rigor mortis, you see. Chisato was conscious enough to let something scare her just a few minutes ago."

"Strange," said Claude. "I don't really know what to make of it."

"There isn't much to go on. I haven't seen anything of interest lying around on the floor. I think I'll look through Ernest's room next, just to be safe. I can't rule out the possibility that he was killed elsewhere and thrown over the edge to make it look like a hanging."

"That makes more sense," said Claude. "I mean, how do you hang someone against their will?"

"Not this easily," said Bowman.

"It's like magic," said Rena.

"No," said Bowman, "it's just another riddle for us to solve."

"For what it's worth," said Ashton, "I didn't notice anything suspicious back in the room. I was there all night, asleep for most of it."

Bowman scratched his chin. "Were you?"

"Uh huh. Where else would I be?"

"I was hoping you might have some idea as to why Ernest wasn't around. He's not given to midnight walks, is he?"

"Well," said Ashton, "I can't really answer that. For all I know, he was killed right in front of me, and I didn't notice because of that amplified Silence crest."

Gyroro and Ururun hissed.

"These guys didn't hear anything, either."

"I see," said Bowman. "Or rather, I don't see. I don't see how any of this could have happened. I'm afraid I'm even more in the dark than I was before tonight, and that's with more to go on."

"Chisato was practically running the investigation," said Rena. "Maybe she'll be more help when she wakes up."

"I hope so," said Bowman. "I'm good for examining things, but I'm not as talented as she is at coming up with explanatory theories."

"She'll be fine," said Rena, sounding like she wanted to convince herself of what she was saying

Ashton noticed that Claude and Rena were leaning on each other, and he began to feel even more lonely than ever.


	8. Nocturne

Chapter 8

Precis Neumann lay on her stomach on top of her bed, sleep mask pushed up above her forehead, bunny slippers dangling from the ends of her toes, and screwdriver in hand. She hummed _Back to Backwater Linga_ as she fiddled and fidgeted with a plastic slate covering up the interesting bits of a circuit board in front of her. She frowned as one of the screws stubbornly refused to come out. The screwdriver slipped from her hand as frustration mounted and her concentration waned.

Beside her bed, a small palmcomputer's monitor flickered blue. Jammed into its side port was a memory cartridge containing the latest upgrade to Bobot 3.0's programming. Bobot 3.0 sat on the floor in three different places, in three discrete pieces.

Precis slumped her head down onto the mattress. She felt more distracted from her work than ever before, but nothing could keep her sane amidst the turmoil of death and terror and a useless lover except for her true passion. She wondered if it was a good thing to be so emotionally dependent upon a project or an idea.

A yawn made its way from Precis's mouth, and her legs kicked into the air. The slipper fell off her right foot, and when it landed, it bumped a precariously balanced paperback copy of _Advanced AI in Robotics_ at the side of the bed. The book tumbled onto the floor, and Precis sighed as she considered the possibility of a page bending irreparably.

Her mind wandered to the three pieces of Bobot scattered across the floor. The top of the head, where a series of parallel processing units directed the actions of the rest of the body, had its cover lolling on its hinge over to the side. Bobot's eyes, despite not being lit up, managed to look like they were pleading with Precis to trust them. Reddish brown stains still dotted Bobot's outer surface where a good rubbing with a bleach-soaked cloth had not quite gotten the cleanup job done.

Bobot's arms, connected to the separated midsection of the body, still clutched two swords fashioned to look like Ashton's. Precis had cleaned them as best she could, but until she could find some more polish, she had to accept that they were going to look like they had been used to kill something recently. In fact, they looked like they had been soaked up to the hilt in a vat of blood more than that they had been used in the traditional slashing motion of the Holo-Holograph move. Precis shuddered when she remembered what had happened to Dias.

Precis had made less of an effort to clean the lower extremities. The legs, attached to each other with a metallic hip, looked as red as before, except for the bottoms of the feet, which still remained shiny. Something about a set of disembodies robot feet sat strangely with Precis; she could not help but entertain the thought that they could get up and walk on their own. A vision of the three parts reassembling, charging her with the Ashton lookalike swords, and ripping her to pieces encroached upon her mind and set her hands shaking. She could only just summon enough mental discipline to imagine Bobot in a comical, nonthreatening dance routine, so as to keep herself from succumbing to irrational fear.

After all, was not everyone else afraid of a perfectly harmless lump of plastic, metal, and silicon? Why should she let herself become frightened? The killer had left her alone thus far, had he not?

But then, several people had died, and no amount of pointing to her own survival could make that go away. Precis slapped the top of her head with her free hand in reprimand for forgetting to think about her friends. What could she think? What could she even do other than lie in bed and work on Bobot's programming?

Yet one more time, she let an image of a brightly animated Bobot play through her mind, superimposed upon an image of Ashton practicing his Sword Dance technique, thinking to herself about just how she could get the two to synch up.

XXX

Ashton found sleep elusive. The fact that he had his own room did nothing to comfort him when he realized that someone had died on the floor not five feet away from where he lay. He still had yet to figure out what had happened to Ernest.

And Precis…

What would become of him and Precis? How could she shut him out? Was she even safe?

Ashton rolled over onto his stomach, forgetting for the moment that such movements upset Gyoro and Ururun. He grimaced as both dragon demons growled into his ears, in stereo. He quickly apologized, and that seemed to be enough for them, but he felt the guilt already welling around in his guy swell incrementally.

His legs began to itch, but he ignored them. His nose had gotten stuffy, and he let out a sneeze. The stress had worn down his immune system, Bowman had told him. As he reached for a tissue from the box on the nightstand, he thought that even though Precis was too mad at him to come out of her room, at least she couldn't catch his cold from all the way down the hall.

Ashton blew his nose, tossed the tissue away, and picked up a mug of hot cider he had sitting next to the tissue box. He liked the mug because of its roughly barrel-shaped contour, and he liked the cider because it cleared his head and his sinuses at the same time. He took a swig and plopped back down, breathing deeply and waiting for his eyelids to grow heavy.

XXX

Chisato Madison lay on her back, uncertain about whether she was awake or asleep, and if either, how long she had been in that state. Her room looked to her to be spinning, and she could see scenes of familiar people and objects playing out on the ceiling. Of course, they were illusions played by her troubled mind, but she only half knew that. They looked about as real as anything. The one with the shadowy, barrel-shaped figure lunging at her loomed particularly large in her mind. She was certain she had seen Bobot, and she thought it struck her with its swords. How, then, was she still alive?

And what was Bobot? Chisato's head began to ache particularly painfully for a few seconds, and she found herself unable to think clearly or even remember things that she knew should be obvious. Bobot, was that the machine Precis was building?

Chisato rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes. Patterns of colored light swirled around the backs of her eyelids, and her she heard a pounding noise inside her chest. Was there a hammer in there? Was it supposed to sound like that?

No, she thought, it was just a natural part of her body. Her heart. How could she have forgotten that? Had her mind left her completely?

Her arms flipped about at her sides, almost involuntarily. One came into contact with a bottle of cider Celine had left for her. When she regained some semblance of mental clarity, she brought the bottle over to her mouth and sipped at it. The hot liquid pouring down her throat comforted her and helped stabilize the world a bit. A few seconds later, though, she realized she had not put the bottle down, and she felt her mouth burning. She began to sweat.

Chisato put the cider back, and in doing so she noticed for the first time that someone had left a slip of paper next to it. Great, she thought, but can I read it? Holding it up in front of her face, she discovered that she could not; the words, already written in thin and only partially legible script, danced in front of her eyes, taunting her. She squinted and managed to make out a couple that were printed in larger, clearer letters than the rest, but she could not quite make a sentence out of what she saw.

_Ernest_ and _poison_, she thought. No, Ernest was hanged. She had seen him. She had seen his body swinging back and forth from the railing, a human pendulum. She had seen someone else there, winding up the clock and setting its pendulum into motion.

Who was that other person, though? Was it the caretaker for the clocks? No, there wasn't a clock there. Just Ernest. What was wrong with her mind if she got a friend confused with a clock? Was she the one poisoned?

No, the note must have said Ernest was the one poisoned, because she only saw his name. If she had been poisoned, wouldn't she have seen her own name? Not if the note was written to me, she thought. Though, if she had been poisoned, wouldn't she be dead, like Ernest? And how could she be poisoned? She had not even had anything to drink.

Looking at the paper again, Chisato found that she still could not see clearly enough to make out more than a few words. She shook her head in frustration. When she did, however, she saw a red drop fall from her neck and splash onto the middle of the page. Was she bleeding? Had she given herself a paper cut?

She stumbled out of bed and nearly lost her balance. At least she felt slightly better than she had an hour ago, she guessed, not knowing whether she had even been conscious that far back. Worried about her neck, she waddled over to the dresser mirror. She pulled the neck of her nightgown to the side and looked in to see the source of the drop.

A thin, horizontal red line ran from just to the right of her throat to her shoulder blade. When she saw it, she felt a burst of pain shoot through her entire arm. On closer inspection, she noticed a soft purple area, much thicker than the cut but harder to see, following it the entire way. The cut was not very deep – it was only clearly red in a couple of places, and even those produced very few obvious signs that they were flesh wounds. Chisato became dizzy, and the world turned black.


	9. The Bloody Road

Chapter 9

When the world faded in again, the first thing Chisato noticed was that everything was more lucid than it had been earlier. The second thing she noticed was that she was on the floor in the middle of her room. It was not an empty, quiet room; Celine snored in a bed near the far wall. Still, she found herself wondering why she had gone to sleep there instead of in the soft, inviting bed she normally used. Collecting herself, she stood up. She nearly screamed when she glanced in the mirror and saw the slash across her neck, now darker than before, but out of respect for Celine, she held back.

_Where did that come from?_ she wondered. _It looks like someone cut me. What a headache, too!_

Chisato's legs nearly gave out from under her, so she leaned against the wall as she hobbled back to her bed. Once there, she saw the bloodied note on her pillow. After taking a drink of the now-cooled cider, she read it.

_Chisato,_

_I do not know when you will be in good enough condition to continue the investigation, but I thought I should mention what I have found in your absence. _ERNEST_, our latest victim, was done in not by hanging, but by _POISON_. I found several scrapes underneath his clothing, which I suspect are where the poison entered his body. The scrapes themselves are thin and barely skin deep, but they look almost bruised. I would guess they were made by a knife. The patterns interest me: on the left side of the upper torso, I found only horizontal cuts, and on the right I found only vertical cuts. The two sets were exactly equal in number, though not parallel in direction. I also found two slightly deeper cuts on the shoulders, one on each side. The cutting looked systematic._

_I found poison in his blood, of course. It was not very potent, so I suspect the attacker knew he needed more than one shot of it. Traces of it around the cuts tell me he had dipped his knife in it before slashing the victim._

_Again, I think this happened long before the killer threw Ernest's body over the railing. At least we know how he was killed now, though I am at a loss to say who did it or why. For a while, I was fooled because the killer actually put Ernest into another set of clothes to cover up the wounds._

_I wish you good health, and I hope the situation improves before you wake up._

_-Bowman Jean_

_P.S. I am not sure how coherent you were when Celine and I brought you up to your room, but Celine thought to leave you a drink. I am mentioning this because she deserves the credit for being thoughtful, and if I pretend it was my idea, she might slap me again._

_P.P.S. You seem to be in okay health. You'll get better with rest._

Chisato gasped.

_Poison, on the tip of a knife_, she pondered. _And he got me. Not enough to kill. Not as much as Ernest got. Not enough to kill. I'm alive. Why, though? He's done everything else right. How could he be so clumsy with me, when I'm one of the head investigators? It doesn't make…_

Chisato's hands clenched shut. _It does make sense._

XXX

A furious pounding at the door shook Precis Neumann out of her Nirvana state, right in the middle of an important adjustment to Bobot's programming. She turned her head toward the interruption and growled.

"Precis, it's me!" Chisato's voice came through the wood. "Let me in! Hurry!"

"You?" said Precis. "You're just here to take Bobot away."

"No," said Chisato. "I'm not, really. Let me in and I'll explain. Please, hurry."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Please," Chisato implored.

"Okay, then," said Precis. "As long as Ashton isn't there with you."

"He's not," said Chisato.

This satisfied Precis enough for her to let Chisato in and invite her to sit down. She even felt so relieved at not seeing Ashton that she found herself playing the role of overly polite host: after she locked the door again, she brought Chisato a cup of freshly brewed tea.

"What seems to be the problem?" Precis asked in an absurdly overdone formal tone.

"First," said her guest, "I need to apologize for getting after you earlier. I had no proof that Bobot was any sort of killer, but I needed someone to blame. So I'm sorry."

"It's all okay," said Precis, "as long as you're not defending Ashton the Creep."

"I'm not," admitted Chisato. "I know he should have done a better job at protecting you."

"You're right there," said Precis. "There was a killer in my room the night of every murder up until I kicked the bum out, and he didn't do anything about it."

"I know," said Chisato. "And I think I'm about to catch the killer."

"Really?" Precis's eyebrows shot up an inch. "Who is it?"

"I'm not quite certain yet, but I know how I'm going to catch him."

"Really."

"And I need to borrow Bobot to do so."

_Borrow… Bobot?_ "What for?"

"I think I can use one of his defensive moves to stop the killer cold. I just need access to it to get it set up."

"And you're buttering me up with talk of how I'm right and Ashton's wrong, despite you two working together on this case."

Chisato looked like she had been taken off guard, but she recovered quickly. "No, nothing like that. I just think it's fitting that this whole thing ends by Bobot's hand."

"What do you need him for?" said Precis.

"I want to test out one of his programs. Can you demonstrate Holo-Holograph for me?"

_Why that one?_

"Sure," said Precis. In a wink, she hopped up from her seat and began piecing her machine back together. Head, body, and legs soon joined together to make one little blood-stained robotic bundle, Precis's pride and joy.

"Just about ready," said Precis. "Let me fire him up."

A few switch toggles and button presses later, Bobot lit up and began pacing in a small circle around his creator. Precis fiddled with a remote control.

"I need a target," she said. She pointed at the side of the bed where Ashton had been sleeping. "How about that pillow?"

"Technically, that belongs to the hotel," said Chisato.

"We're going to be rich as soon as the publishers warm up to my novel, so who cares?" Precis aimed her remote device at the pillow. Unbridled passion for robotics seemed to take over her entire being as she shouted a handful of her favorite words into the remote's microphone: "Bobot, go! Holo-Holograph!"

Bobot swung his right arm in a horizontal motion, slicing the pillow across the side. The follow-up strike came from Bobot's left arm, and then his right, and then his left again. Finally, in a _coup de grace_, Bobot leaped into a somersault and slashed downward with both swords.

And missed the pillow entirely.

"The target's a little small, I guess," said Precis. "Is that going to be a problem? I really should fix that sometime. I can't get Bobot to target in the middle of his move."

"It's okay," said Chisato. "I've seen exactly what I need to see."

"Great!" said Precis. "What next?"

"First, we power Bobot down."

"Done," said Precis, flipping a switch. "Now what?"

Chisato's face turned grave. "Next, Precis, you'll do exactly as I tell you, if you value your life at all."

Precis watched, mouth agape, as Chisato drew a small but perfectly deadly handgun from inside her jacket.


	10. La Danse Infernal

Chapter 10

"Chisato!" Precis Neumann threw her hands in the air. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. "You're the one?"

"Don't be silly," said Chisato. "I just need your cooperation if we're both to get out of this alive."

"I don't understand," said Precis. "Why do you need to threaten me?"

"Because we're going to see Ashton," said Chisato.

Precis stifled a scream. "I don't want to see him."

"I know that," said Chisato. "That's why I need to use force. I don't want to take any chances. I know how strongly you feel about not seeing him now, and I can't risk you messing this up. We're both going to see Ashton, and we're both going right now. Bring Bobot."

Precis hesitated.

"And throughout this visit, you will do exactly as I say."

"This isn't like you," said Precis.

"I just want to live." Chisato frowned. "We all want to live, I think, and if acting like I'm acting makes that more likely, then it's what I need to do."

Precis shivered and listened as Chisato continued, "And what you need to do is put Bobot into a burlap sack so Ashton won't see him. You have one of those lying around, don't you?"

"I think so," said Precis.

"Do it, and then we leave."

XXX

Precis felt more than a little trapped as she marched, Chisato behind her, to Ashton's door, Bobot in tow. The man behind the door was the anvil, Chisato's gun was the hammer, and she was crushed.

_I am not making up with that monster_, she thought. _No way. Why do I even need to talk to him?_

When she stopped in her tracks to gather herself, she felt the cold metal of a pistol brush against the back of her neck. The cold rushed through the rest of her body, and she began to feel defenseless. This jarred her.

_Be strong, Precis. Ain't no way out of this with a gun right up to your neck. No way. No shame in that._

The metal pressed harder against her neck, so she began moving again. She couldn't help but view each step she took as the ticking of an infernal clock chronicling her march to the scaffold. The inevitability of it all frightened her. She soon would meet both Ashton and the killer, and that summed up all of the dread she felt at the moment. Those were the two people she least wanted to encounter. Those were the two reasons she had locked herself up.

_Locked myself up. That's the only way to describe it. Keep them out means I gotta make myself a bird in a cage. A cage. I'm a caged bird that no one can control._

Thump! Lost in her musings, Precis failed to notice when she reached her destination.

"Try knocking with your hand, not your head," said Chisato.

_Way to look dumb in a crisis. _

Precis rapped lightly on the wood in front of her. No one answered.

"Knock harder," said Chisato.

"Ashton's a heavy sleeper," said Precis. "He just kept on sleeping every time the killer came through our room to get Bobot."

"Just do it," said Chisato. The gun barrel poked its way into Precis's neck again.

"Fine," said Precis, and she knocked harder.

This time, Ashton responded. "Who is it?"

"Be polite," Chisato hissed. "Be lovey-dovey. We have to get in."

"What?"

"And hurry!" Chisato prodded her again.

"It's me," said Precis, loudly enough for Ashton to hear her. "It's Precis."

The voice on the other side poured through like a bursting dam. "Precis? Sweetie? You've come back! Oh, you've come back! Finally! I've been so sad. So…"

"May I come in?" said Precis, swallowing her pride.

"Oh, sure," said Ashton. "We've got so much to talk about. I've got so much apologizing to do. Oh, my life has meaning again!"

The doorknob turned, and the door swung open. For a second, but only for a second, Precis found herself face to face with the man she loved. Once loved. Used to love. A flurry of conflicting emotions met in her head all at once, but before she could sort them out, Chisato shoved her to the floor behind Ashton.

"Owie!" said Precis. "What was…?"

Precis cut herself off as she looked up to see Chisato, now holding her pistol at Ashton's face. She spoke with the authority of a street cop meeting the criminal punk who killed her partner: "I got you now, didn't I?"

Gyoro and Ururun hissed madly, and Ashton raised his hands over his head. "Got me? Uh, is this some kind of joke?"

"Don't play dumb," said Chisato. "Why did you do it?"

"D-do what?" Ashton stammered and stumbled backwards.

"I said not to play dumb!" Fire flashed in Chisato's eyes. Precis almost didn't recognize her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Ashton insisted. "R-really, I don't."

"I have all the proof I need," said Chisato. "You want to hear it?"

"Go ahead," said Ashton. "You've got the gun. You do the talking."

"Don't take me for a fool," said Chisato. "If you were all that innocent, why would you be armed? Why would you even be dressed at this time of night? Everyone else is asleep."

"I'm in my pajamas, aren't I?" said Ashton.

He wasn't, though, Precis noticed. _What? Ashton?_

Two swords clattered to the floor.

"I really don't know what I was doing with those," said Ashton. "I must have picked them up out of habit."

"Step back," Chisato demanded. "Now."

Ashton did, and Chisato kicked his weapons to the side, out of everyone's reach.

"You won't be poisoning me again," said Chisato. "And you won't be framing Bobot."

"Framing Bobot?" Ashton looked utterly dumbfounded.

"That's why you left me alive," said Chisato. "I've been blaming Bobot from the start, and you liked that. You couldn't have me identifying you when you ran into me downstairs, but you didn't want me dead. That's why you only cut me once."

"I didn't cut you at all!" said Ashton. "Honest!"

"Every step of the way, you planted evidence incriminating Bobot," Chisato continued, ignoring Ashton. "The blood. The oil in the bathtub. You even watched Bobot to see what you could frame it for doing. You knew what it was capable of. Then, when Precis locked you out, the planted evidence stopped, and a dead body turned up in the room where you were staying. You tried to poison Ernest, but you got Opera instead, so you took him out with your swords."

"I thought he was hanged!" said Ashton. "I saw him."

"You thought it was obvious, so you covered up the sword wounds before throwing him over the railing. You didn't count on the cuts turning all purple. Like this one."

Chisato pulled her collar to one side, revealing her purple scratch.

"Anyone could have done that," said Ashton. "I swear it wasn't me."

"You made a mistake, though," said Chisato. "You haven't been paying enough attention to Precis's Bobot programming. See, you thought you could cut Ernest up just like Bobot would in his Holo-Holograph mode."

Ashton looked pale as a ghost. "I didn't…"

"You did," said Chisato. "But you forgot something. You're a lot taller than Bobot. Most of its sword swipes hit down low, and only the final one hits up high. The injuries to Ernest were all on his chest and shoulders."

"Lots of people are taller than Bobot." Ashton was clearly on the verge of tears.

"Not people who know the sword techniques of the House of Anchors. Why did you do it, Ashton?"

"Chisato," said Precis, "what are you doing?"  
Chisato said nothing in reply, but Precis just barely noticed her left hand pointing at the sack containing Bobot. Precis nodded and fell silent. Feeling strangely brave, she crawled along the floor to a space several meters behind Ashton, pulling her sack behind her. She then began untying the top of it.

"Why?" Chisato repeated. "Why, Ashton?"

"He didn't," said Ashton's voice.

Chisato looked startled. "What?"

"You almost got it right," said the voice, "but you overlooked something. Two things."

"What are you talking about?"

The voice spoke faster. "You _always_ overlook us! Everyone does! Especially that idiot, Ashton, and that dweeb, Precis."

A look of understanding came over Chisato's face. "Gyoro? Ururun?"

"Quite right, my dear reporter," said the Demon Dragons. "We tire of being attached to this fool, and we know the only one who can fix us is the girl."

"You've been controlling Ashton? Why kill everyone, though?"

"You can probably figure it out."

Chisato thought for only a second. "I see. You felt Precis was ignoring you in favor of Bobot. You wanted me to destroy Bobot so she would work on freeing you."

"Exactly," Gyoro and Ururun said.

"Then, when Precis and Ashton began fighting, you got nervous. Clumsy."

"Did we?"

"You wanted to bring them closer together during the crisis, like Claude and Rena drew closer. You wanted to stop the killing while there was someone left, so Precis could sympathize with Ashton and help free you two. But when the opposite happened, you got frantic. All you wanted was for me to trash Bobot."

Precis gawked at Ashton's shoulders. His personal demons appeared to be growing larger by the second, but Chisato didn't seem to notice.

"And you won't be killing us with a mere gun, reporter."

"Won't I?" Chisato gritted her teeth and swung her pistol upward and fired. A burst of energy spewed from the mouth of the gun and hurtled toward Ururun's head, but Ururun dodged at the last second.  
"You underestimate a demon! That, my dear…"

"That…?"

"Is fatal!" Gyoro and Ururun lunged together for Chisato. Precis yelped as each demon took a bite out of one of Chisato's shoulders. Bits of fabric from her jacket fell to the floor, blood drained out of the wounds, the gun slipped from her fingers, and Chisato slumped down onto the floor in defeat. Precis looked on in horror.

"That'll be the last of our intrepid reporter," said the demons. "So much for the winner of the Nedian Journalism Prize."

_You want freedom? I'll free you._ "Holo-Holograph!"

In a flash, Bobot leaped out of his sack, scampered toward Ashton and the demons, and began his cutting motion. Right, then left, then right, then left, and then flip, he took his best shot. Ashton let out a wail.

"Again!" said Precis. "Holo-Holograph!"

Bobot repeated the routine. Ashton's body tried to turn around, but the sword strokes paralyzed it. The demons began to howl with their own mouths.

"One more time!" shouted Precis. "Make it count!"

And six strokes later, Bobot's swords cut through demon flesh and came out the other side. Gyoro and Ururun fell silent, and they tumbled to the floor.

_I'll free you, Ashton._

XXX

The survivors gathered at the door to Ashton's room. Bowman Jean attempted to tend to the injuries on both Chisato and Ashton, while Claude and Rena dealt with Precis.

"He's going to be okay," said Rena, patting Precis on the shoulder. "You did great."

"She's right for once," said Claude. "You saved us all."

Rena plowed her elbow into Claude's stomach. Precis let out a giggle.  
"I did, didn't I? I got the bad guys."

"And I hope you aren't mad at Ashton anymore," said Claude. "He lost himself completely when those demons took control of him."

"I understand," said Precis. "I know it wasn't his fault, and I know I need to apologize to him."

Rena gave her friend a hug. "Everything will be fine between you two. I'm sure he even forgives you for cutting up his legs."

"His…"

"Bobot's targeting needs some work."

"Oh," said Precis. "Yeah, I already knew that."

"He's in a bit of a shock now," said Rena. "You ought to say something to him."

"Maybe I should," said Precis.

"Let's go." Rena took her hand and led her over to the bed on which her lover lay.

"Ashton," she said, "there's someone here to see you."

Precis leaned over and looked directly into Ashton's eyes. She took in the sight as best she could, but she only lasted a few seconds before tears welled up and blurred her vision. "Ash!"

"We're both going to be fine," said Ashton. "Bowman says Chisato got the worst of it, actually, but it's nothing he can't fix."

"Ash, I'm so sorry," Precis sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry."

Ashton said nothing. He just reached up, hugged his wife's neck, and smiled. 


End file.
